Of Niceties and Nu Mou
by SurferSquid
Summary: Clan Excelsior investigates a freak summer snowstorm, and discovers that a familiar face is behind it. Can the clan help someone in need without abandoning their mission? (Considered a FFXII crossover because of the inclusion of world elements contained in FFXII but not FFTA2.)
1. Chapter 1

_I'm so grateful for all of the positive feedback I've gotten on my FFTA2 stories! I just love the characters so much that I couldn't help but take them for yet another spin. Enjoy, and may they take you to a happy place like they do for me._

It wasn't that I hated school. It appealed to my not-so-inner workaholic.

No, it was the other students that drove me crazy.

If all of my education consisted of sitting in a room by myself, reading books, writing essays, and taking exams, I'd be perfectly okay with that.

Instead, I was stuck on a campus full of other young adults, and they sometimes made me wish I owned a flamethrower.

Take today, for example. I'd showed up early to class – as always – and promptly opened a book and begun to read while waiting for the professor. Unfortunately, thick fantasy prose couldn't adequately distract me from the inane conversations going on around me about parties and gossip.

I had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes and groaning at the utter pettiness and immaturity of my peers. _I don't fit in here,_ I thought. _I stick out like a sore thumb—but there's nowhere else to go. There's no place for me._

I glanced at the clock. Two minutes to class time. Someone pulled out her laptop and started watching some sort of crime documentary, with the volume turned up nice and loud. Students crowded around with morbid fascination, providing all sorts of commentary I didn't want to hear.

With a sigh of utmost helplessness, I rested my head in my hands, plugged my ears, and stared out the window at the blue, boundless sky. Wasn't there anywhere I could belong?

The classroom door burst open. "Nobody move!" a deep, rough voice bellowed. "This 'ere's a raid!"

Naturally, I moved, whipping my head around. This was definitely not my professor.

Shuffling into the room was a motley group of creatures that looked straight out of a fantasy video game. A tall rabbit-woman had her longbow drawn—next to her, a petite dragon-girl brandished a comically enormous broadsword. An orange crocodile in a flight jacket and goggles had a bazooka perched on one shoulder, and above him hovered a purple-winged rabbit-thing with a dangerous-looking arsenal of gadgets in her toolbelt. From behind them stepped a sturdy, tan-skinned man with flared ears, a long nose, and a curly black beard, gripping a spear.

And leading the troupe was an enormous blue ogre of a boar with long, floppy ears and a battleaxe. He grinned dangerously. "Didn't think yer day was gonna get this interestin', eh, mateys?" he asked in a pirate's brogue.

Several girls shrieked, and a few guys shouted and stood up. "Nice one," one of them said with a chuckle once the initial shock had worn off. "Nice costumes."

The boar-ogre placed a clawed hand on his belly and laughed. "Y'hear that? He thinks we're _costumes!_ "

His companions snickered. "Bad misstake ter make, hume," the crocodile said with a smirk. "Wonder if you'd sstill be thinkin' that after me hand-cannon blowss a hole in the wall." He shrugged the shoulder on which his weapon was propped.

Rabbit-Woman smiled serenely, although there was a fierceness like an obsidian blade behind her dark eyes. "They know not with whom they deal."

"You're talking to the Pirate King, bub!" Dragon-Girl offered helpfully.

"Real funny," the student continued, although he now looked a little less sure of himself. "All right, yeah, you got us." He rolled his eyes and moved to sit back down.

Boar-Ogre reached out and snatched the kid by the front of his shirt, lifting him clean from the ground and poking his snout in the human's face, grinning through his tusks. "We ain't costumes, lad."

The guy let out a shout that turned into a scream. The Pirate King laughed and deposited him back in his chair while the rest of the class shrank away from these strange intruders. A few people fumbled with their cell phones, trying to call the police.

And me?

Well, I was sitting there with a smile on my face like I'd gotten everything I wanted for Christmas. "Qrrog!" Unable to take it any longer, I leaped out of my chair and scrambled over to the best friends I'd ever had, and the creature I was privileged to call my husband.

"Terra!" He caught me up in his arms and held me close. "Let's get you outta here, love! The _Juggernaut_ 's parked outside!" Cradling me in the crook of one arm while the other still held his axe, we made a break for the classroom door.

I knew I could have looked back and had the satisfaction of seeing the utter bewilderment on my classmates' faces.

But I was too focused on the happiness that lay ahead.

Then Qrrog suddenly turned into a chocobo.

"What—" The sound of my own voice woke me up and I blinked in confusion up at the ceiling of our bedroom. The cold light of early morning, filtered through sea mist, filled the room. "Mmph." I rubbed at my face groggily.

"You okay, love?" Qrrog was propped on one elbow next to me.

I rolled over to look at my husband and nodded, blushing. We've been married for a few years now and I still can't get over being embarrassed when I talk in my sleep. Qrrog says I sing in my sleep sometimes and he thinks it's adorable. I'm just glad no one else can hear it, since the stone walls of this massive fortress are so thick.

He grinned and mussed my hair. "What were you dreamin' about?"

"Oh golly, Qrrog, it was _awful_ ," I said. "I was back in college and everyone was an idiot."

"Bleh," he sympathized.

I perked up. "But then you and the clan came and busted me outta there! It was awesome!"

The giant of a seeq laughed and mussed my hair. "Can't get rid o' us that easy, love."

"Don't worry," I said. "I'm not ever leaving you. And I'm never going back to Earth. I belong here in Ivalice with you. With my clan." I sighed. "It was just a fear-dream. After I graduated high school, for years afterward I had nightmares that I had to go back for whatever reason. But they faded after a while."

Qrrog nodded. "You know what else'll help? Breakfast!" He picked me up and swung me around.

I laughed in delight as we headed for the great hall of the castle. "Oh, and then you turned into a chocobo!"

"Really? What color?"

"Just a regular yellow one."

"I imagine I'd be something with a li'l more pizzazz." Qrrog buffed his claws on his vest. "Like blue with flames or somethin'!"

"That would be epic!"

Yep, it's true. I, Terra Thatcher, am an expatriate of Earth, and now the fantastical world of Ivalice is my home.

And there's nowhere I'd rather be.


	2. Chapter 2

We'd cleaned up the place quite a bit since we moved in after Qrrog assumed the title of Pirate King, nearly a year ago. The old Pirate King was a nasty piece of work, and after our victorious showdown with him, Qrrog dismissed the few pirates who refused to take up the new king's ideals. The rest liked my husband's style far better.

"Mornin', mateys," Qrrog bellowed amiably as we strolled into the great hall. A rousing round of cheers greeted him in reply, and the two of us saw to the spread of various foods at one of the tables.

I made a beeline for the fruit. "Oh yum, we got some oranges in." I began to pile my plate with fruit and thick slices of sweet brown bread.

"And more bacon!" Qrrog's plate began to resemble a mountain of food as he took one – or two – of everything. "Aye, but those folks in Corpolk sure spoil us."

Now, do understand—we're not really _pirates_ in the proper sense of the word. We don't engage in actual piracy, or any other illegal business. In fact, we have an alliance with no less than the Archadian Empire, thanks to my clan's being all buddy-buddy with Judge Magister Gabranth—we even get to call him Basch. So we're pretty much strait-laced swashbucklers.

Case in point: we now protect scattered coastal villages from actual injustice, and in return they give us a share of their produce. Considering the fact that our home base is an isolated stone fortress in the middle of the ocean, this works out quite well for the both of us.

But being a pirate is a point of pride for my husband, as well as the other seafaring adventurers in our tiny realm, so the term stays.

"Good morning!" Coele chirped as we sat down at the table hosting the rest of our clan. The gria resettled her draconic wings on her back before ripping into a raw steak with gusto.

Next to her sat Saskia, her lapine viera ears tilted at different angles like two furry antennae. She gave us a quiet smile as she sipped from her mug of chamomile tea. Further down the table, our resident engineers seemed to be bickering over a schematic spread out between them. Vasily's crocodilian bangaa jaws snapped while he muttered something and scribbled a few notes around the drawing. Winnifrith Edilvert Mortlock – you can see why we just call her Winn – placed her tiny moogle hands on the table and grinned smugly, clearly having won this round.

This motley crew, currently missing its newest member, is Clan Excelsior. Saskia is the leader of the clan, and she prefers it small and exclusive, so it's just seven of us and looks to be that way for the foreseen future. Qrrog wanted to recruit all of his subjects into the clan, but Saskia put her foot down at that point. So we're kind of a dual operation, here—Saskia runs the clan, and Qrrog runs the pirate kingdom.

Saskia did make one exception, though.

"Mail call!" A large, swarthy hand tossed a packet of letters in front of my husband. "Time to pay the bills, you ol' sea dog."

Qrrog laughed and punched the arm of the black-bearded revgaji mailman. "Can't it wait 'til after breakfast, Jihl?"

Our seventh clan member smirked as he rounded the table. "Thought you'd like some readin', mate. Always nice to catch up on the news in the mornin', right?" There was a teasing twinkle in his blue eyes as he pulled out another packet of loose papers. With a bow and a flourish that made the coattails of his trenchcoat sway dramatically, he presented the papers to Saskia. "And for you, milady, clan business."

"You're too kind. And too flamboyant." Saskia accepted the mail with a stoic roll of her eyes, but she couldn't disguise the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth.

Jihl was Qrrog's old quartermaster back when my husband was a pirate captain – the _real_ kind of pirate, not our goody-two-shoes knockoff variety. Before I convinced the seeq Viking to end his life of crime via a Holy spell to the face.

He's totally over that, by the way. We still joke about it sometimes. It makes a great "how I met my spouse" story, at any rate.

Anyway, once Qrrog and Jihl were reunited here on Worgen Island during our ousting of Bloodblade, the two became as tight as brothers again. Besides being a master of logistics and organization, Jihl's also a registered Dragoon and a fearsome foe in his own right, which was probably why Saskia relented and accepted him into the clan.

At least, that's what she says. I have my suspicions otherwise. For obvious reasons.

Vasily looked up from his own "light reading". "Saskia, y'know I could just fly in some clan postin's for you. Why make Jihl go through all the trouble of collectin' 'em when he's on shore?"

"She doesn't _make_ me," Jihl sniffed, pulling up a chair next to Saskia. "I enjoy it. I picked you out some good ones," he said as Saskia began rifling through the postings.

"Thank you," Saskia said levelly. She pretended to look preoccupied with shuffling papers and sipping her tea, but a few times she glanced over at the revgaji and color came to her dusky cheeks.

Qrrog and I said nothing, but grinned at each other.

The viera stopped shuffling and her snowy eyebrows rose. "This is interesting."

When Saskia says a posting is interesting, that's our cue to stop eating our breakfasts and stare intently at her, awaiting details.

She looked around at her rapt audience, detachedly enjoying how she had us all held in suspense. "The Great Land Festival in Camoa starts tomorrow."

Winn groaned. "That's not interesting, kupo!"

"I _ain't_ sservin' drinkss there again," Vasily grumbled. "Lasst time I bloomin' near bit a bloke'ss hand off. And not on accident, neither."

Saskia waited for them to calm down before she looked back to the paper. "No one will be serving drinks. It appears to be snowing in Camoa, and volunteers are wanted to discover the cause."

I wrinkled my nose. "Snow in the middle of summer? Could it be a rogue Black Mage or something?"

"If it were that easy," Qrrog mused, "they woulda found 'im by now."

Saskia smiled. "Qrrog, have you all of your realm affairs in order?"

He saluted her with a strip of bacon. "Aye aye, ma'am!"

"Kupopo," Winn sighed, mulling over the schematic. "I wanted to work on this design more, kupo. I think we're really close to a kupo breakthrough!"

Vasily reached over and patted her head. "We'll bring it with uss, pipssqueak."

Saskia leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes like a cat looking pleased with itself. "We shall set forth after breakfast, then."

"Whoopie!" Coele said, punching the air. "I hope there's time to attend the festival after we're done! I just love all the games they have! And the vendors sell the cutest stuff!"

With a grin, I looked around at my oddball family. "We really do make a great team. Heh, it's funny how there's one of us for each Ivalician race. We're rather well-rounded."

"Well, except the nu mou," Jihl pointed out. He stabbed a knife into his steak, but when he saw Saskia glance at him, he hurriedly switched to using his fork.

Coele nodded. "Oh, and the aegyl." She began counting off on her fingers. "And the urutan, the garif, the yensa… And the baknamy, although I don't know if they count…"

I laughed. "Okay, okay! I meant each race in Jylland." Our region of Ivalice was certainly diverse, but there were a few races not as well represented here as in other parts of the world, and very few out of them were looking for clan work. "So we're really just missing a nu mou."

"Bah, who needs 'em," Vasily snarled, snapping up a string of sausages. "Arrogant blokes with their stubby gray noses stuck in spellbooks. Think magick's better'n technology and think they know more'n anybody else."

Qrrog chuckled. "If you want a nu mou clanmate so bad, Brighteyes, there's always that ol' Sage we fought in our duel with Bloodblade."

I winced. "Nah, I'm good. Besides, I don't think she'd join us even if we paid her a million gil. Not after I turned her to stone." Once the petrification had worn off, she'd been one of the first to leave and we hadn't heard from her since. Which I took to be a good thing, because she was a nasty piece of work.

Coele gulped down her orange juice and jumped to her feet, her wings flaring. "Welp, I'm ready! C'mon, let's get this show on the road!"

Jihl grinned. "I haven't been to the Great Land Festival in ages. Saskia, let me know if you want a prize from any of those shootin' games, and I'll win it for you."

"You seem to have forgotten," Saskia said with a faint smile, "that I am a Sniper." As she rose from the table, she pantomimed drawing her greatbow and firing with the easy grace of an expert markswoman.

The revgaji chuckled. "Right, er—I'll stick to the throwin' games, then."


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks to a marvelous convenience called "Vasily owns an airship", we reached Camoa by late afternoon.

Well, we reached almost-Camoa.

"Blimey!" Vasily sputtered as he leaned forward over the controls on the Juggernaut's bridge. "I ain't never sseen anythin' like it!"

The skies had been clear and the weather fair for our entire trip, but as the sprawling hub city of Camoa loomed on the horizon, it became evident that something was very wrong. Beneath a blue sky swirled an immense dome of dark clouds that completely engulfed the city, looking like a snow globe gone awry.

"Ain't no way I'm landin' in that messs!" the bangaa hissed.

"Then land outside of it," Saskia said, leaning over his chair. "We'll go in on foot and investigate."

Vasily made a face, looking distraught at the idea of all that winter weather. "I think I oughtta sstay with the Juggernaut—could be usseful to have backup in the wingss."

"I'm staying too, kupo," Winn said. "This doesn't exactly look like a problem tech support can solve. Unless you want us to break out the magitek armor, kupo."

"I'll let you know," Saskia said, drumming her fingers on an instrument panel.

Vasily brought the ship down onto a fallow field a few miles outside the city. "Radio if you need us."

Saskia nodded and her hand went to the small communications device hooked to her belt. Vasily and Winn had built the magicite-powered walkie-talkies after I explained to them about that technology on Earth. I'm still trying to convince them to invent video games, but to no avail.

The walk to the city outskirts was cumbersome, as we were dressed for cold and—well, it was still the month of Goldsun everywhere but Camoa. By the time we reached the hemisphere of freaky weather, I was looking forward to it.

"Finally," I groaned as the wind picked up and the air turned chill around us. The city's rooftops were only barely visible through thick clouds and curtains of snow that fizzed out the world like static on a television. I lifted the hood of my heavy winter coat.

"Everyone ready?" Saskia asked.

Qrrog nodded. "Aye aye." He was bedecked in furs as befitting his Viking job, complete with a horned helmet. That wouldn't really protect him against the cold as much, but none could deny the coolness factor.

"Yes'm," Jihl said, raising his spear as though he could somehow pierce the storm to its heart. Stray snowflakes collected on his black beard like so much dandruff.

The viera faced the snowstorm with a frown. "Let's go." And in we plunged.

I enjoyed the frigid air, the biting winds, and the snow constantly slapping in my face for about fifteen seconds. Then it became misery.

The five of us slogged through dirty slush, icy streets, and deceptively deep drifts in silence. Speaking would take up too much energy, and I doubted any of us could hear each other well over the howling winds anyway. No one else was outside, not that I was surprised. Night was falling fast, and the city was already a realm of dusky blue. Lantern light shone feebly through frost-encrusted, snow-rimmed windows.

"Maybe there won't be a Great Land Festival at all," I heard Coele say forlornly from ahead of me. Indeed, all traces of festivity in the city were frozen over. Icicles hung from banners, travelers' wagons were boarded up tight against the storm, and stalls and platforms had been abandoned in a state of half-construction. It made the entire place seem eerie.

We reached an inn and Jihl helped Saskia wrench the door open against the draft. The fire in the downstairs diner was only a flicker, and everyone else looked as cold and miserable as we felt. The hume innkeeper gave us a look of sheer exasperation, as though she didn't want to have to room or feed one more wayfarer caught unawares.

I shot her a sympathetic glance, but Saskia ignored the woman, her way of affirming that we were not there to ask for rooms. Not yet, at least. Hopefully not.

"Everyone all right?" the viera asked. Her ears flicked, spraying melting snow.

Coele rubbed her red nose and shook the snow from her wings. "Mm-h-hm." She shuddered and wrapped her wings around her shoulders. It wasn't much warmer in here, but at least we were shielded from the wind. "Wh-why did it h-have to b-be a b-b-blizzard—" She sneezed. "I'm not c-cut out for this s-sorta weather…" Her kind hailed from the equatorial tropics further north.

Qrrog gave her a pitying look as he wrapped her and me in the folds of his fur cape. "I think it's 'bout time we broke out dinner." On our approach to Camoa, when we realized the state it was in, Jihl pointed out that supplies inside might be scarce. So we packed ourselves food from the _Juggernaut_ 's larder, so as not to put a strain on the beleaguered city's resources. From the condition of the inn, it seemed this had been a wise decision.

Saskia nodded and motioned to a free table. We huddled around it and, with numb fingers, pulled out bread and cheese from our travel bags.

Jihl caught the eye of a nearby bangaa. "'Scuse me, mate," the revgaji said, "but can you tell us what's been goin' on in these parts?"

"Blassted if I ken," the bangaa said with a shake of his head. "Me clan and messel' came here t' do ssome tradin' at th' Fesstival… lookss as though tha' is nae happenin', now. Assk the innkeep, why dunnae ye." He descended into grumbling, rubbing at his long ears to try to keep them warm and sticking his scaly snout into his gloves.

Vasily was wise in not coming, I decided. Every bangaa and gria in town must have been about ready to curl up and die.

"No one knows," the innkeep said, leaning over the counter. "Weather was fine near a week ago—then out of the blue, it starts snowing, all sudden-like. Someone's put the entire city under a nasty spell. Judges haven't found anything out." Her shoulders slumped. "Hope you're not wanting food and lodging, because I'm short on both. Airships can't get in or out—not enough help's coming. We're being frozen to death."

Coele scowled. "Sheesh, who would do something like that? And so close to the Festival, too! Someone's got their tail in a knot."

"Whoever it is must really hate Camoa," Jihl said. "I'm guessin' they weren't invited to the party."

The innkeeper shook her head. "Investigations haven't turned up anything in any of our neighboring provinces. Lots of folk have left, but—that storm is brutal, and few have the supplies for it in the middle of Goldsun. Safer for the rest of us to stay put—for now, anyway. Until the food runs out." She shifted uncomfortably and turned to the pantry.

I nibbled absently on the crust of my bread, my mental gears spinning. "I feel like we're missing something. Neighboring provinces were investigated—what about inside Camoa itself?"

"Who curses their own city?" Coele asked.

Qrrog rubbed at his snout. "Aye, and doesn't make a big deal about it, at least. If you're goin' to hold yer own city hostage, no sense keepin' everybody in the dark." He looked down at me. "Somethin' is fishy here, Brighteyes. You think this spell was cast inside the city?"

"I think we shouldn't leave any stone unturned," I said. "I'm going to attempt a scrying for the source of the spell." Reaching for my staff, I closed my eyes. I breathed slowly and deeply, centering myself as I tuned out the ambience of the inn and reached out for the web of Mist interlacing everything.

The storm was an enormous tangle of magick, and searching it was like trying to find the end of a rat's-nest of string. I'm not sure how long I sat there, engrossed in my scrying, but the rest of the world seemed to fade out, leaving just me and this weird mess of mana.

It was stubborn, but I was stubborner. Eventually, my probing revealed that the origin was, indeed, in the city. Score.

Now I needed to get more specific. This required some effort. The source signature was elusive, but in a strange way. It didn't seem to be actively resisting my scrying—it seemed more… slippery. Dim. Fading. Not the usual mark of a mage. No wonder no one had found it. Even those who might have thought to look inside the city could have easily passed over this signal.

I mentally seized it and implanted its location firmly in the back of my mind. Opening my eyes, I sat up, blinking as the world came back into view. I felt like I'd just awoken from a long nap, the kind where you're even more tired than when you go to sleep.

"I got it," I croaked, reaching for my canteen to wet my cotton-mouth. The fire had been reduced to glowing embers, and the room was emptier. "How long was I out for?" As useful as magic is, I still find it unsettling how I can lose track of time when I'm doing things like this.

"Half an hour," Qrrog said. "What'd you find?"

"Our culprit. In this city. Oof…" I put my hand to my head. "Wicked head rush."

My husband pulled me close. "Sorry, love. Wish I could help with that magick stuff, but all's I can do is summon lightnin'."

I patted his arm. "It's okay. I'm just glad I can help out." Being the sole mage in the clan did get a little tiring sometimes, but I wasn't about to complain. It was an important duty and if I didn't do it, no one would. It felt good to have a place.

I looked out the window at the pitch-black frigid abyss. "You guys ready for more cold?"

Coele shivered. "No."

"Well, you can't stay here," the haggard-looking innkeeper said. "Sorry. I'm plum full—don't even have any floor space for you." She motioned to the weary travelers who had simply sunk down beneath their tables, happy to at least find a resting place out of the elements. "Just go find an abandoned building, there's sure to be plenty of 'em around."

"That's all right," Saskia said, pushing back her chair and standing up. "We will make do. Thank you."

Coele collected her hat from where it had been drying by the fire. "Let's get this over with. The sooner we stop this mess, the sooner summer can come back."

Jihl chuckled and patted her shoulder. "You stay in this cold any longer, mate, and you'll get as grumpy as Vasily."

"I just might," she said with a sigh.


	4. Chapter 4

I led the way as we tromped through the streets once more. The streetlamps remained unlit and we poked, splashed, and slid our way through the icy gloom. And all the while, the relentless snow and wind stung any part of us that was exposed.

Qrrog gave Coele his cloak so she could keep her wings and tail warm, although she kept sneezing. But she insisted we keep going. "I'm g-gonna throttle whoever d-did this!" she growled feebly.

I was only partly paying attention to her, focused as I was on tracking down my tenuous target. As long as I kept it in the back of my mind, it was like there was an invisible string leading me to them. At least they were probably indoors.

We found ourselves in a poorer and more run-down part of town. Here, few windows were lit in the sagging tenement houses and boarded-up shops. The streets were covered in thick snowdrifts, up to my waist which meant Coele floundered in them. She was not happy about this, and Jihl hoisted the gria onto his shoulders.

"In here." I pointed to the door of an old apartment building, half-buried in snow and encrusted in ice.

"You serious?" Jihl asked.

I nodded. "The spell's coming from the top floor."

Qrrog reached over and scraped the frosted door with his claws. "Ain't nobody been in – or out – in a while." He glanced over at me. "But I trust ye, Brighteyes. Time to make a house call."

"Let's get in there already!" Coele, suddenly filled with a new vigor, leaped off of Jihl's shoulders and began hacking at the door with her sword. "I'm gonna knock somebody's block off!"

Qrrog laughed and hoisted his axe from his back. "Jihl, a li'l help, 'ere!" The three of them made quick work of cutting the door free from the ice that held it shut, and then we all barged inside.

"Oof." I rubbed my shoulders and looked around as Qrrog put the door back in place to keep out the wind. I held my staff aloft and channeled power into it, and the crystal on the head bathed the entrance with cool teal light. "This place isn't creepy at all," I said sarcastically.

The hallway of the apartment building was dark and deserted. The wind rattled at the windows and pelted the panes with snow, and the whole place shuddered and creaked. The building was not in the best condition, with worn-down carpet and holes in the walls, and a funny smell pervaded the air.

Saskia took a deep breath and looked over at the staircase. "Well, up we go."

All down the hall, on this floor and the next and the next, doors lay haphazardly open, as though people had left in a hurry. We peeked into one and saw a nearly intact flat, completely abandoned.

"I bet they left after the first few days of the storm," I said. "When they realized it wasn't going to stop. They didn't have any other option but to get out."

Saskia glanced at the ceiling. "And yet something here is perpetuating it."

The fifth and top floor was the most run-down of all. Everything looked to be in a state of disrepair and grime, like the people who lived here just didn't care. "Weird," I muttered. "On Earth, the highest floors are prime real estate. I've noticed it's like that in Goug and Archades, too." Those two cities had skyscrapers comparable to Manhattan's.

Qrrog nodded. "Aye, but in buildin's that ain't got no lifts, nobody wants the higher floors." He motioned to the stairs. They were a real pain to climb when we were all tired, cold, and wet, but weren't exactly convenient at any other time, either.

"Oh." I blinked. "That makes sense." Silly me, spoiled by elevators.

"So where d'you think our culprit's hidin'?" Jihl asked.

Coele was already halfway down the hall. "Probably in the only apartment with a closed door?" She pointed to a door that was indeed not open, or even ajar, but tightly shut.

"Stay on your guard," Saskia said as she notched an arrow to her bow and the rest of us approached. "We know not what lurks within."

Coele looked ready to break the door down, but Qrrog nudged her away and knocked. We waited for an answer. Nothing. He knocked again. "Open up!" he barked. "We know yer in there!"

Still nothing. Coele sneezed.

Had I been mistaken? I closed my eyes and double-checked. "The signal's definitely coming from in there," I muttered.

Qrrog tried the door handle. Locked. Not a problem for him, as with a forceful twist he wrenched the handle free of the door and kicked it open.

This flat, too, seemed empty. It was a tiny, one-room studio—albeit one that appeared to have once been a magician's study. Bookshelves lined the walls, glyphs had been drawn on the floor, and crystals and dried herbs hung from the ceiling. The stove was cold and piled with dirty dishes, and a conclave of candles sat inert on a table, their hard wax making a frozen cascade down the side. A pile of old-looking laundry covered the bed.

We lowered our weapons and I felt my heart sink. "I don't understand," I breathed. I thought for sure I'd found the source of the spell—whatever it was, I'd found _something_ here. Was my scrying off? Was I just worse at magick than I hoped I was? Had all of this been a wild chocobo chase?

Coele groaned and kicked over a nearby stack of books. "Well, let's at least camp here for the night. We can figure out what to do tomorrow." She walked over to the bed and sat down on the laundry mound.

"Ugggghhh." The mound shifted and let out a low moan.

Coele squeaked and launched herself from the pile, holding her blade in front of her as her wings flared. "What in all the realms was that?! D'you think this place is haunted?!"

From out of the laundry dropped a long, gray tail topped with white fur. In a jolt of realization I saw that the lump of disheveled clothes was a _person_.

Not only that, they were my mark.

I pushed past Coele and rushed to the side of the nu mou. It was a white-haired female in heavy robes, lying on her side with her eyes closed. Her breathing was heavy and her expression pained.

My stomach clenched. "Are you okay?" I asked. At the same time, I couldn't help but feel like she looked a little familiar, though I had no idea why. There were nu mou aplenty in Ivalice.

She stirred, but before she could say anything Saskia grabbed her shoulder and rolled her over onto her back. "Terra. Is this the spell's originator?" Her dark eyes glittered fiercely.

I mentally double-checked. "Yes," I stammered, "but—"

Saskia clutched the nu mou's robes. "Then let us turn her over to the Judges."

The rest of our clan crowded around the bed. Jihl sucked in a sharp breath and smacked Qrrog's arm. "Spawn of Shemhazai! It's Hesketh!"

"Aye, so it is!" Qrrog said, his eyes widening. "Terra, me love, this be the Sage who fought us with Bloodblade!"

I took a step back, staring at the nu mou in shock. That would explain why she looked familiar, although in a considerably worse state than when she had been badmouthing me and lobbing lethal spells at us. "Of all the places…" I muttered.

Coele jumped up and down. "Lemme at her! She's ruining the Great Land Festival!"

"Wait!" I put a hand on Saskia's arm. "Wait—she's sick." Hesketh looked painfully frail and she lay limp in Saskia's grip. The Sage let out a series of weak coughs and cringed in pain.

The viera sniffed. "That is no business of ours. The Judges will—"

I nudged her aside. "The Judges won't do anything but put her in prison. She needs our help." Reaching out, I felt Hesketh's forehead with the back of my hand. "She's got a fever—and her hands are cold—"

Saskia withdrew, her lips thinning. "We were not tasked to play nurse to an errant mage. Camoa is in dire straits."

I looked over my shoulder at her. "So is she."

I hate to argue with my clanmates. I really do. But I couldn't back down from this. It didn't matter that Hesketh had been our enemy in the past. She was hurting, and I couldn't walk away from that.

Silent sparks flew between my eyes and my clan leader's. What broke the tension was Qrrog stepping forward and throwing his fur coat over Hesketh's trembling form. He and Saskia stared at each other for a long moment. They said nothing, but in my husband's golden eyes I could see a deep empathy that he was fighting to convey to the standoffish viera.

Finally, Saskia's eyes lowered and she stepped back. Qrrog put a hand on my shoulder and I gave it a grateful squeeze. "Thank you, Saskia," I said. Drawing in a deep breath, I knelt by the bed. Being a White Mage doesn't automatically make one a physician, but it was obvious that since I wanted to help Hesketh, I was going to have to spearhead the operation.

"We need to warm this place up," I announced. "Someone go get wood for the stove. Go see if you can find any food for sale anywhere—and water, she needs lots of water."

"I'll go," Jihl said, stowing his spear.

Saskia strode over to him. "So will I." She still did not sound entirely convinced, and I suspected she just wanted to get away from the situation for a bit.

I nodded. "Thanks."

As they headed out the door, I willed forth an Esuna, placing my fingers on Hesketh's forehead and letting the healing energy flow into her body. While the spell was designed to cancel maladies on the battlefield, I figured it might do some damage against viruses as well. At least it would hold her over until I could get more remedies going.

"Terra, what can I do?" Coele asked with a sneeze.

I looked over at her and smiled. "You've already done a lot today. Take a load off and rest, I don't want you getting sick too."

She eased herself onto the floor and curled up in Qrrog's cloak. "Sounds good to me."

A while later, Jihl and Saskia returned with all the supplies they could muster. Qrrog started a fire in the stove while I tried to get Hesketh to accept some water. She drank weakly, although she did not open her eyes or take the bread I held to her mouth. Still, it was a start.

As the evening wore on, Saskia and Coele retired to one of the unoccupied apartments, and Jihl took another one nearby. I was determined not to leave my patient, and my husband stayed by my side through the night.

"You think if you cure her, she'll stop the storm, don't ye." Qrrog said as I leaned against him, exhausted.

I nodded. "I have a hunch. But I didn't want to tell Saskia that. It'd make me sound heartless. I'm doing this because it's the right thing to do. She could have died if we hadn't found her."

He gave me a squeeze. "Yer the biggest-hearted person I know, sweetheart."

"You're a close second, you know. Thanks for siding with me."

"Aye, well, I know a thing or two about second chances, meself."


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning saw a marked improvement in my patient. Hesketh's breathing had calmed and her fever had gone down, although she was still shaky and cold.

Once I checked up on her and gave her more water, it was time for a little housekeeping. I directed my clanmates in tidying up, which mostly amounted to doing the dishes and plugging the gaps in the flat's walls and ceiling to keep out stray blasts of arctic wind. Of course, it is never wise to meddle too much in the arrangement of a magician's study, so we left most things alone unless I was good and sure they weren't ensorcelled.

But still, the dishes sorely needed doing. Saskia and Coele cleaned them in the communal washbasin a few doors down, and then we all set to preparing vegetables so Jihl could make soup. Although you wouldn't guess from looking at him, the Dragoon is the best cook out of all of us. Qrrog says it's because the revgaji got his start in piracy in the galley.

As wonderful as my husband is, cooking is not one of his strong suits. It's not that he's a disaster in the kitchen—rather it's that he can't grasp the idea of there being a strategy to making things taste good. Or not be raw.

He explained to me once that seeq don't taste things quite the same way as a lot of other races—to them, _everything_ tastes good, and they have iron stomachs, to boot. So they can't actually tell the difference between a big slop of horribly clashing ingredients that would give a hume food poisoning and, well, decent fare.

Thus, he loves me enough to never cook for me.

Soon enough, Jihl had a huge pot of soup bubbling merrily on the stove, filling the old tenement with a savory aroma while we chatted idly about different potion flavors, the weirdest things we'd ever done while Berserked, and Prima Donna's latest concert tour. It was all really almost homey, if you ignored the arcane glyphs and tomes on the dark arts that surrounded us.

Coele was in the middle of telling us about the time she thought she actually saw the Witch of the Fens going hat shopping in Fluorgis, when a voice croaked, "I had hoped you were all just a bad dream."

I sat up, then scrambled to my feet. "Hesketh! How are you feeling?"

The nu mou didn't move, still looking very much like a heap of laundry on her own bed, turned away from us. "Go away."

If I were in a snarkier mood I would have come up with some witty response to this. But, contrary to what you might think about my razor wit, I do have times where I can't think of anything clever to say. Right now I was just ecstatic that my patient was talking to me, and I felt like we'd already exchanged enough banter when last we'd met, so I didn't feel like exerting myself to try to be a smart-aleck.

I ladled soup into a bowl, diluting it with water to cool it down, and nudged it under her nose. "Here—drink this—"

Hesketh opened her rheumy eyes and pushed it away. "I don't want you here."

"I didn't ask if you did. Please drink it. We made it just for you." I took a few sips to show her it was okay.

She glared at me in disbelief, but hunger must have won out, because she pulled the bowl closer to herself and started nursing from it. "If you are here about the storm," she said after a long draught, "it's no use." Her head flopped down and she stared dully out the window at the swirling snow. "I meant for it to be a simple cantrip for a client, but I was already feeling under the weather, my reagents were not from the most reputable source, and—"

The Sage interrupted herself with a series of racking coughs that made me flinch, and for a moment I worried she was going to hurt herself. Thankfully, they died down after a minute, and she took more soup, now gulping it down greedily.

"I couldn't stop it even if I wanted to," she wheezed. "It's out of my control. Cursed magicks, I'm getting too old for this."

"I can help you," I said. "If you'll just tell me what to do—"

Hesketh's eyes narrowed in a sneer. " _You?_ Do you fancy yourself a great mage these days, insolent child? Think Old Granny Hesketh is going to tell you all her secrets if you play nice? Don't think I have forgotten how you humiliated me on Worgen Island, stripped me of my prestige and cast me out to fend for myself! I had to take up work as a hedge magician just so I wouldn't starve on the streets!"

"Now that's a pretty tale!" Jihl said, standing up and marching over to us. "You know good and well that Qrrog Squallhammer welcomed you to stay, you old bat! You were the one who snubbed his generosity!"

She turned up her round gray snout. "I would rather die than serve under that ignorant oaf! He doesn't know what's good for him—or his subjects! He'll bring you all to ruin!"

"You're just jealous!" Coele said from across the room. "You're jealous because nobody likes you!" Her words echoed awkwardly in the silence that followed, as the rest of us at least had the presence of mind to not validate Hesketh's baseless vitriol.

Saskia leaned over my shoulder. "So you cannot break this spell?"

"No," the nu mou said. A mad grin spread across her face. "And I don't want to. So you're wasting your time here."

Saskia nodded. "So you say. Clan, we are pulling out." She turned and strode toward the door. "We shall report the situation to the Archadian Judges and their mages will deal with it. Our job here is done."

"I'm not going," I said. "Hesketh is still sick."

The look in Saskia's eyes could best be described as ice sharpened to a point and aimed squarely at my head. She paused for a moment and then lifted a beckoning finger. "Terra. May I speak with you outside, please?"

I nodded and got up, following her into the hallway. We had never disagreed on anything like this before. We never had any reason to, and I'm far from a believer in petty arguments. But this wasn't petty, and I was scared. I'd never seen Saskia so angry before.

Most people, when they get angry, become hot and animated, bursting into emotional flame, like Coele and Vasily are prone to doing. Saskia's anger was an entirely different beast. It turned her into an imperious queen of coldness. It was, in a way, more frightening than someone flying into a rage.

"I do not appreciate," she said levelly when we were far enough away from the apartment, "your wresting the objectives of this mission toward your own desires. Your compassion is a boon, but like all strengths, it can be a weakness when taken too far. Please keep that in mind."

"Saskia—" I wrung my hands, expecting her to interrupt. She tilted her head, swiveled an ear, and waited for me to continue. I did appreciate that she did not want this discussion to turn into an argument, and was willing to hear my side of things. "I just… I just feel like Hesketh needs us. This isn't so much about what's ailing her physically but what's hurting her—in here." I poked my chest, over my heart.

The viera blinked, slow and catlike. "I understand. But Camoa needs us as well. Hesketh's mistake has thrown the entire city into a state of emergency. I cannot tend to one ill nu mou when thousands are suffering with cold and hunger."

I nodded. "I know. But I've got a gut feeling that helping her will end up doing the most good."

From down the hall we could hear snatches of conversation amongst our other three clanmates, and Qrrog's roaring laugh echoed through the almost-empty building. I looked over my shoulder and grinned, and turned back to Saskia. "Do you know why I healed him back when we first met him?"

The ice in my clan leader's eyes seemed to melt a bit and she smiled in exasperation. "Because you just couldn't help yourself?"

I leaned against the wall and looked down at my hands. "Where I come from, in all the stories, creatures like him are the bad guys. They exist solely to give the heroes something to vanquish."

"It is not much different in Ivalice," Saskia murmured.

"I never liked that." A lump formed in my throat. "I always felt that—that if the monsters just knew someone cared, they wouldn't have to do bad things." I glanced down the hall. "When we fought Qrrog and his pirates, all I could really think was that he might never have had someone to really care about him in his whole life. I wanted to see what kind of a difference that would make."

Saskia was silent for a moment, and then she drew in a breath. "A large one, I will concede. When he first joined our clan, I was skeptical. But he has proven to be an enormous boon to our company." She smiled. "And not just in terms of stature."

I chuckled. "So… I want to see what kind of a difference I can make for Hesketh. Maybe she just needs someone to care about her."

"That is noble of you, Terra," Saskia said. "I commend you." She rested her knuckles on the wall. "What do you suggest we do about Camoa, then? I am not sure how much longer the town can hold out, if it can wait for a change of heart."

"I don't know," I said. "But thank you for letting me do this."

She turned back toward Hesketh's flat. "I have not yet entirely made up my mind, Terra." Some of the ice began to creep back into her voice. "I will give you my answer by tonight."

I didn't bother disguising my disappointment. "Thanks."

Logically, it seemed okay to just leave Hesketh here with a big pot of soup and then get the Judges to fix everything. Our job was technically done.

But I could never be strictly logical or technical in these situations. I couldn't get out of my head the image of the pitiable old mage, curled up alone and waiting to die. I had to make her see she was worth more than that.


	6. Chapter 6

Jihl and Saskia ventured back out to search for more supplies, while the rest of us stayed with Hesketh. Lunch came and passed, and she refused to acknowledge us or participate in our conversation.

Coele was spread out on the rug in front of the stove, her wings splayed to absorb as much heat as possible. "I was okay with snow before this," she said, her dragon's tail twitching lazily. "It's fun sometimes—like when you wanna throw snowballs or build snow forts or wear a cute coat. But this is the worst snow I've ever seen."

"Well, it is kind of magic," I pointed out, trying to be helpful. I was sitting on the edge of Hesketh's bed, helping her to more soup. Her appetite seemed to have returned, which gave me hope yet. "Have you ever seen snow this bad, Hesketh?"

"No," she replied sourly.

I realized this probably sounded like a guilt trip and scrambled for a way to change the subject. "How do you think Vasily and Winn are doing?"

My husband chuckled. "Prob'ly havin' a field day shut up in that ship with their schematics."

"Uggghhhh." Coele rolled over onto her side and held one wing up like a sail. "Cold is the worst. This is the coldest cold I've ever been in. Let's never have winter again."

"Would someone shut her up?" Hesketh snapped. "I've never heard such a whiny brat."

The gria scowled and sat up, clutching her ankles. "I wouldn't be whining if it wasn't for your stupid magic blizzard!"

I stood up and spread my hands. "Ohhh, no. Let's not—"

Hesketh shakily lifted herself up and glowered at Coele. "Don't test me, you little worm! As soon as I work up the strength I'll turn you into a frog!"

Coele bristled and jumped to her feet. "What a hateful old hag you are! Nobody will ever, ever like you! I bet your own parents didn't even like you!"

The nu mou recoiled as though she had been dealt a physical blow. Shock played over her wide-eyed face, and then she bared her teeth. "You dare!" She thrust one stubby-fingered hand out from under Qrrog's coat, and magick began to fizzle around it. Then she doubled over coughing and the spell faded.

Qrrog picked Coele up by her tail. "Awright, Pinky. Be a good lass and go downstairs, see if you can spot Saskia and Jihl comin' back."

She wriggled free and dropped to the floor. "Fine," she spat, grabbing her sword and storming out of the room.

Hesketh's coughing devolved into a more drawn-out, hiccupping sound. She collapsed on the bed with her face in her hands and I realized she was crying.

I put an arm around her shoulder. "I'm sorry. Please don't take what she says—"

"She's right," the nu mou sobbed. "I'm such a miserable, unlovable crone. It's easy to get by in the world when you're spry and cute—but I actually had to _work_ at it—and see what good it's done me now."

Qrrog lumbered toward us and sat down in front of the bed. "Come now," he said. "Looks ain't everythin', I know that as well as you. Yer top-notch with magick and that's what counts, don't it?"

"My qualifications mean nothing if I can't get a good job," Hesketh said. "All of those years at that horrible magick academy my parents sent me off to—wasted. Ozra Bloodblade noticed me—he saw my potential. I finally had a place with his lot. And then you miserable idiots went and ruined it for me—" She went into a fresh round of sobbing.

I patted her shoulder. "We didn't mean to, Hesketh, honest. You could have stayed with us if you wanted. Why didn't you want to?"

This made her pause. After a moment, she looked up at me as though she'd just now discovered the answer herself. "You were all… too _happy_ , I suppose. You enjoyed each other's company. You had hope for life. You wanted to make things better and you honestly thought you could." She shook her head. "It was all too much. Why live with that constant reminder of something I can never have?"

"Who told you couldn't have it?" I asked.

She clenched her fists. "My parents—no, the whole cursed world."

Qrrog took a breath. "Well, we ain't the world. And we say otherwise."

Hesketh stared at him, wiped a hand over her face, and then dabbed at her tears with her robes. "You're just saying that because you want me to null the spell. I told you, I can't."

"That doesn't matter," I said, offering her the bowl of soup. "We'll figure something else out for that. I just want to see you feeling better."

She said nothing, but took the bowl and began sipping from it.

Footsteps sounded, up the stairs and down the hall. "They're still not back!" Coele said as she burst into the room. She stiffened and withdrew into herself when she saw Hesketh glowering at her, starting to mirror the nu mou's pinched expression.

Qrrog and I shot her a warning glare. The gria flushed. "I—I'm sorry I insulted you," she muttered, not sounding very sincere.

Hesketh drew herself up like a high priestess in her temple. "Apology accepted." She cleared her throat, which turned into a few more coughs, and when she looked back at Coele, the old Sage had deflated somewhat. "I'm… sorry for this weather."

"Yeah, me too," Coele said. At a look from Qrrog, she rolled her eyes. "I forgive you. It was an accident." She nudged the floor with the toe of her boot. "I guess I'm just sore 'cause I wanted to go to the Great Land Festival so bad…"

Hesketh paused, then chuckled. "You think the Great Land Festival is impressive? You should have seen the old traveling circuses that hailed from Rozarria! They stopped coming to Jylland a century or so ago, but they were a sight! Lightning-eaters and acrobats—I remember one where a man tamed a wendigo and made it dance!"

"Get outta town!" Coele said, standing on her tip-toes with excitement. "You guys, we gotta go to a Rozarrian circus one of these days, pleeeeeease!"

Qrrog and I laughed. "Sure, Pinky," he said, "maybe when our job's done 'ere!"

I glanced over at Hesketh. She looked like a completely different person when she smiled—and it was a nice smile, not a smirk or a sneer. I didn't know what life had done to her to make her determined not to enjoy it, but I felt I just had to break her shell and find the real, happy Hesketh hiding underneath.

If Saskia would let me stay, that was.

It was growing dark outside, which meant that past the unnatural dome of storm covering the city, the sun was setting.

And Jihl and Saskia still weren't back.

Qrrog shifted uneasily where he sat. "Sure hope they're all right. We shoulda brought an extra pair o' communicators…"

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't even think of that." Hesketh had fallen asleep again. Her fever was nearly gone and now she was getting things up when she coughed. I tucked my husband's coat over her shoulders and went to join him by the stove.

He shook his head as he pulled me into his arms. "Not yer fault, love. Yer a White Mage, not a future-seer."

"You really think I'm doing the right thing?" I asked him. "I feel like I am, but… I'm not sure I can trust myself."

Qrrog poked my nose with one claw. "Well, _I_ trust ye, Brighteyes. Yer heart's yer biggest strength. Always remember that."

"Hey guys!" Coele popped into the doorway. She had earlier announced her intention to explore the building, and although they were on better terms now, Hesketh was glad to have some peace and quiet for a bit. "Isn't it interesting how much you can learn about a person from their apartment? I think somebody on the second floor was an artist who had an obsession with Scions—the walls were covered in paintings of 'em!" She shuddered. "Most of them were of Zalera, though. Maybe it's a good thing they left."

I stifled a chuckle at the thought of the Death Scion having such a devoted fan. "We're not supposed to go snooping around in other people's homes. This isn't a usual abandoned building—the tenants are probably going to come back after this storm gets fixed."

Coele punched the doorframe. "I knowwww, but I was so bored—" Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes narrowed. "What's that?"

"What?" I asked, but I was answered by a dull, rhythmic pounding that reverberated through the building.

It seemed to be coming from outside, so the three of us rushed to the window. On the snowy street below us, two searchlights pierced the darkness. They were connected to a pair of stocky bipedal robots, tromping through the snow with relative ease on their digitigrade legs. Their black armor sported sharp curves and points, and there were laser cannons mounted on their chassis.

None of this worried me. Actually, it put a smile on my face. I unlatched the window and opened it wide enough to yell, "Over here!"

The lights swiveled up to converge on Hesketh's window, and before they seared my retinas I noticed that the magitek armor units were both toting bundles of packages. "'Oy!" Vasily's voice echoed from the external speakers of one of the mechs. "Happy Great Land Fesstival!"

"Same to you, matey!" Qrrog laughed. "What's this?"

"We called in for backup," Saskia said from behind us. She and Jihl had appeared in the doorway with armfuls of groceries. "The Judges are on their way to do something about this spell. In the meantime, I thought perhaps the citizens of Camoa could use some relief."

"Airships can't get in or take off in this weather, kupo," Winn said from the other mech, "but these babies can handle this kupo terrain, with a little modification!"

"That'ss what we've been workin' on, actually," Vasily added. "Guessss it couldn'ta come at a better time." The searchlights lowered back to the street. "We're takin thiss sstuff ter the city hall, right?"

Saskia leaned out the window. "Correct. We will be staying here for the time being. Thank you for your aid." She turned to smile at me, and I grinned in return.

"All in a day's work for the clan, kupo!" Winn said as the mechs tromped away. "I needed to put these modifications to the test anyway, kupopo!" She sounded quite pleased with herself.

"Close the window," Hesketh groused. "I thought you wanted to make me better, not kill me."

I pulled the window shut and then flung my arms around my clan leader. "Saskia—thank you—"

She patted my head awkwardly. "Who can say but perhaps this will work out for the best. Hesketh, do you mind if we continue to keep you company until this storm abates?"

"Do I have much of a choice?" the old Sage said. "Do whatever you like, just pipe down, I'm trying to sleep."

"I'll wake you when dinner's ready," Jihl said, unloading his own bag of groceries and sorting through the food he and Saskia had managed to scrounge up.

Hesketh rolled over. "Good."

She was well enough to eat solid foods by dinner, and she ate voraciously. As we wrapped up our meal, Vasily and Winn returned and dined for a bit themselves, and then we all sat and talked for a bit, crowded comically into Hesketh's flat. This time she watched us with interest and sometimes added a few comments of her own.

My heart swelled. This was a far cry from the malevolent witch who had almost killed my husband during our fight with Bloodblade. I didn't really think Hesketh was all that bad. She just needed to feel appreciated.

I went to sleep that night feeling like everything was going to turn out okay, after all.

I woke up feeling like something was very, very wrong.


	7. Chapter 7

There was a strange and sick feeling in the pit of my stomach and a weird energy in the air that tugged maliciously at the edges of my senses. The wind had intensified into an out-and-out roar that slammed into the tenement house with such force that the entire building swayed. Several scraping sounds from above told me that shingles were being dislodged from the roof.

Hesketh was tossing and turning in her bed, letting out moans and cries of pain. I leaped to my feet and scrambled over to her. "What's wrong?!"

"They're—they're trying to dispel the enchantment!" she gasped, chest heaving. "They're going about it all wrong, it's—agh!" She clutched her sides as a convulsion ran down her body.

"What is she talking about?" Saskia asked, her brows pinched in concern.

I thought back to when I had scryed out the origin of the spell, and how the magick itself was such an out-of-control tangle. "This spell's—I think it's sort of gone rogue," I guessed. "It's gotten all twisted up in itself, and if the Judges are here trying to fix it, they may be doing more harm than good."

Saskia's ears drooped. "Ah… I am sorry…"

"Don't feel bad, we couldn't have guessed this would happen," I said.

Jihl stared out the window. "This blizzard's pickin' up right fierce, mates." A sickening, cracking, crash rumbled in from outside and he winced. "Wall on the building across the street just gave in. This doesn't look good."

Our clan leader bounded to the doorway and leaned out into the hall. "Vasily! Winn! Go tell the Judges to stop!"

"We're on it, kupopo!"

Hesketh groaned. "They won't get there in time—" She let out a choked cry of pain.

I held Hesketh's shoulders. "What can we do?" I asked her.

"N-nothing!" She pulled her long ears. "I can't stop the spell, so—" She dropped off, eyes wide with fear.

My stomach plummeted. "So what?"

The nu mou closed her eyes and shivered. "The magick backlash will kill me, and the city will be torn apart." She jerked up and shoved me away. "Go—get out of here! While you still can!"

"I'm not leaving you! There has to be a way to fix this!" I looked around at my clanmates. "… Right?"

I was met with helpless stares, and my husband shrugged. "Yer the one who knows most about magic, Brighteyes. We trust ye."

Saskia nodded. "It's your call… though I doubt we could effectively escape in what little time we have." The building creaked and shuddered with the buffeting of another raging gale.

That was an uncomfortable burden to bear—but if it was mine to shoulder, I would tackle it with full force. I looked back to Hesketh. "We're going to find a way to fix this. You and me. Show me everything you know about nulling spells."

Her mournful eyes searched my face for a long moment. Then she swallowed hard and pushed herself out of bed. "Grab me a few earth crystals and a bundle of clover," she said, tottering over to a bookshelf. Her long tail dragged behind her like a furry snake. Coele grabbed her arm and helped her steady herself as the Sage grabbed an ornately worked mace that leaned against the shelf, then ran her fingers over a row of tomes. "Hurry! We haven't much time!"

I snatched the reagents from where they hung and joined her on the rug, where she leafed through an old book with shaking hands. Every few moments she was interrupted by another spasm of pain, but she gritted her teeth and kept going. The wind screamed outside, and I could hear the crashes and snaps of what were possibly bits of debris falling and flying. It was like the snowy version of a hurricane.

"There." Hesketh pointed to an entry and smoothed down the pages. "How much do you know about sagacity magicks, girl?"

"Not much," I admitted, "but I'll do whatever I can." I offered her the reagents.

She arranged them in front of her and coughed into her hand before waving her mace over them, pulling out thin strings of mist, the energy that ran through all things. "It's a different breed than your simple color magicks—whole other field of study, I'd venture to say. Not that non-magicians can tell the difference well. Ugh…" She wrapped an arm around her stomach and looked like she was going to be ill. "No time for lessons. Join your energy with mine, now!"

I hooked my staff onto her outstretched mace and sent a surge of power through it. Both implements burst into white flame, and we closed our eyes and mentally dove into the spell.

The tangle of mist-threads I had felt out before was now replaced by a writhing, flailing maelstrom that gave me motion sickness. I didn't even know where to begin trying to fix this thing, calm it down, break it, or _what_.

Hesketh and I were just two minds at the moment, communicating without words as she led me deeper into the spell, through it and around it as we tried to grasp something beyond our full mental sight. Even she wasn't quite sure what she needed to do—but it would be easier with a wingwoman, at least.

Our minds clutched at the thrashing spell-strings, trying to gather them, subdue them, sever them. They resisted our attempts every time. And it didn't help that somewhere outside of our reach was another presence agitating the magicks even further. Like trying to undo a knot and ending up just pulling it tighter.

We needed to go deeper still.

The two of us wove through the strands, expanded our vision to its limits, and began to see the pulsing, jumping particles of mist that held the whole thing together. Distantly I could feel my body take a deep breath as Hesketh and I gathered our power, feeding order into the chaos around us—

A loud snap from above jerked me back into my senses. I looked up and screamed as the roof began to cave in and a large ceiling beam dropped toward us.

A blur of pink rushed between us as someone grabbed me from behind and held me fast, and the beam stopped mere feet from our heads. "Keep going!" Coele grunted. She was holding up the ceiling, her feet planted on the floor and her teeth bared to show her pointed canines. There is a reason that, despite looking like a ten-year-old girl, she wields a broadsword almost as long as she is tall.

Qrrog refused to let go of me. "You okay?" he asked.

I nodded, although my heart was pounding, and wrapped an arm around his. "Thanks."

"We have to evacuate, _now!_ " Saskia said. She looked wildly from the door to the window while Jihl threw water in the stove to prevent a fire.

"No time!" Hesketh snapped. "Terra! Focus!"

"I got this!" Coele said, glowering at the roof. "Hang in there, you guys!"

It was now or never. If we didn't break this spell in the next few seconds, we – and all of Camoa – were toast. I thrust my staff forward and shut my eyes. My clan would take care of us.

Back into the spell.

It was wild as ever, but Hesketh pointed out that we had made weak spots before our interruption. That gave us the only opportunity we could afford. But the entire spell was so voluminous and unstable that it would take too much time to hit the weak spots one by one.

Then I had an idea. Instead of going deeper, we needed to back out. I strained to retract my mental vision so I could see the whole spell at once, reached into it—and pulled it taut like a game of cat's-cradle. The magick's vulnerabilities shimmered all at once in the mist-strings.

Hesketh caught on before I even told her what to do. She lashed out with a vicious slice of energy that cut clean through the strands. They snapped, recoiled, snaked away, and dissipated in a flurry of energy being released back into the cosmos.

We tumbled back into reality. My husband was still holding me tight, while Hesketh collapsed on the floor, both of us thoroughly exhausted.

But the roaring of blizzard winds had been replaced by an eerie calm. Sunshine filtered through the buckled roof and made dapples of light on the rug. And the air was warm.

"Oh, thank goodness," I sighed, slumping against Qrrog.

A few more beams snapped. "We should—probably go now—" Coele said, giving the ceiling another shove.

Saskia nodded. "Down the stairs, quickly!"

I patted Qrrog's arm as he moved to stand up. "I'll be okay," I said. "Hesketh needs help." I motioned to where the nu mou lay prone.

My husband mussed my hair. "On it." He scooped the old mage into his arms and we made a break for the door. Coele was the last to go, allowing the ceiling to crash down behind her.

We high-tailed it to the stairs, and while the building would definitely need to be condemned, it at least held up enough for us to scramble back to the ground floor. The six of us burst out the front doors, into a world where summer sun glinted off of snowbanks and melting frost dripped from Great Land Festival decorations.

Coele stretched and strutted about the street. "Never again, snow. Never again."

I leaned against my husband and brushed Hesketh's long white hair out of her face. Her eyes were closed. "Oh, please be okay," I whispered.

The nu mou drew a deep breath and started coughing. "Am I dead?"

Qrrog laughed. "Hardly! Don't ye worry, Granny, more o' me matey Jihl's soup'll perk ye right up!"

"It is quite good soup," she murmured. "Now put me down, you big oaf. I shan't be coddled like a baby."

Saskia brushed herself off and flicked her ears. "I assume you successfully nullified the spell."

"Of course," Hesketh said once she was back on the ground. "It was a risky gamble, but when you have accrued as much knowledge as I, such feats are not surprising." She paused and then looked over at me with a crusty smile. "It helps that I had such a stubborn assistant."

I laughed. "Nice to know I'm good for something."

Coele had positioned herself in the middle of the street and was waving frantically at something in the sky. "Over here!"

Vasily and Winn had returned in their mechs, airborne this time as the machines' glossair rings whirred with mist and propelled them through the air. Following them was a small air cab. When they landed in front of us, the air cab touched down as well. Out stepped a figure in black-and-silver armor with a swirling black cape and an elaborate, face-covering helmet.

Much to my disappointment, this was not Basch—excuse me, Judge Magister Gabranth. This Judge was a woman, shorter than the Judge Magister but no less imposing as she stared each of us down.

After a long moment, she folded her arms. "My mages reported a dispelling in this area." She motioned to the magitek armor units. "And these two explained to me what has been going on. Clan Excelsior, I presume?"

Saskia bowed deeply. "At your service, Your Honor."

The Judge gave her a curt nod and then turned to a scowling Hesketh. "You were the originator of this spell, were you not?"

"It was an accident," the Sage said. Using her mace as support, she drew herself up, although it was a comical sight when compared to the Judge twice her height. "And I assure you, I do not make those at all often."

"What were you attempting to do when your spell went rogue?"

Hesketh blushed and said nothing. The silence stretched on until it became awkward.

"You are obligated to answer me," the Judge said.

The nu mou coughed into her sleeve and closed her eyes as though the answer pained her. "A client requested that I summon shaved ice for her refreshment stall at the Great Land Festival."

I had to take a deep breath to keep from laughing, and although I couldn't see the Judge's face, her sudden shift in posture suggested that she was silently doing the same.

Coele groaned. "You mean all this trouble was for _shaved ice?!_ " She put her hands on her hips and shook a scolding finger at Hesketh. "You really are a troublesome old woman!"

"Oh, am I?" Hesketh shooed her away with her mace. "I would like to see you do better, you little imp!"

The Judge seemed less inclined to be amused by their bantering, and she cleared her throat in a way that made the two pipe down. "Since it was accidental, your sentence will be lessened, but the fact remains that your careless mistake has cost this city severely. The law dictates that you will spend five years in prison—"

"Wait." Saskia put a hand on Hesketh's shoulder. "Your Honor, she is with us."

"She is in your clan?" the Judge asked.

Saskia's eyes narrowed. "No, but I was about to ask her." She knelt down and searched the Sage's face. "Will you honor us with your presence in our clan?"

Hesketh smirked. "I'm not sure, prison might at least be quieter." She snickered. "Oh, all right. How bad could it be."

"In that case," the Judge said, "your sentence will be replaced with a fine, and you will help with recovery efforts. Be more careful in the future."

I grinned and threw my arms around the old nu mou. "Welcome to the clan!" This was nothing new—when we accepted Qrrog into the clan, we got his charges dropped in a similar fashion. If your clan has a reputation of being law-abiding, you can do that.

"Well, if she likes me soup, she can stay," Jihl said with a laugh.

Hesketh patted my back. "I trust you shall not make me regret my choice."

"Nah, prison sounds really boring," Coele said. "You'll have lots more fun with us!"

The Judge retreated to the air cab, pausing with her hand on the door. "Oh—Judge Magister Gabranth gives his regards."

I smiled. "Thanks!"

Our newest clan member sighed and looked up at the sagging tenement house. "My study… some of those books were irreplaceable antiques…"

Qrrog squeezed her shoulder. "Chin up, Granny. There's plenty o' room fer ye back at the fortress. You can make yer own li'l space that won't ever get messed with again."

"I'm sorry I called you incompetent," Hesketh said.

My husband shook his head. "I knew you was just angry. Can't say I blame ye. What say we call a truce?" He held out a hand and she clasped it firmly.

"Phew, that was an interesting adventure," I said. "And I didn't even have to get fake-kidnapped by Qrrog this time!"

He picked me up and nuzzled his snout into my cheek. "Sweetheart, if you wanted a kidnappin', why didn't you say so?"

"Because I thought we were calling them 'dates' nowadays," I replied with a smirk.

Hesketh ran a hand down her face. "Scions smite me," she groaned. "What have I gotten myself into?"

The hatch of one of the mechs swung open and Vasily popped out his head. "Welcome ter my world, ssisster!"

Winn clambered out of her own mech. "Enough standing around talking, kupo! Let's go to the Great Land Festival!"

"As long as we don't get any shaved ice!" Coele said.

Qrrog laughed. "Aye, but I could go fer some sticky buns, and cherry pie, and candy floss, and those dumplin's with the ice cream in the middle…"

And just like that, Hesketh was a part of our family. I'd found where I belonged. Now she had, too.

Mission complete.


End file.
